Evanescent - By Addison Moore Page 0,43

you’ve done—that you’re about to do.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Her fingers curl around the back of my neck and she sinks me down to her lips.

Just love me, Laken. That’s all I would ever want in return.

But she doesn’t hear it.

Wesley

Cooper Flanders’ truck sits parked in front of Melville all night long and into the early hours of the morning. By the time I shower and dress and head out to check on it again, I find it missing.

The sun crests over the library in the distance only to meet up with a layer of rust-colored clouds. The air holds the scent of pines and unearthed soil as a few restless bodies sprint by, sacrificing sleep for fitness.

My phone reads seven-thirty. I’m not sure if Coop’s ever crashed at Melville before, but when I scanned the house for him at two a.m., I sure as hell couldn’t find him.

My messages sit empty. I texted Laken last night, and she didn’t answer. I thought maybe we could talk a little. I wanted to share just enough about the Tenebrous Woods to prepare her for the journey, but she never texted back.

Are you up for breakfast? I hit send. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if she was with Coop last night.

I shake the thought away.

Coop probably got lucky and landed a very inebriated Grayson Evans in a marathon fuck-fest that rendered him too jacked up to drive.

My phone buzzes softly in my hand—it’s a text from Laken, and I’m flooded with relief.

Oops sorry! Just saw your message a second ago. I’m headed to the mall with Carter. Shopping for something HOT to knock you off your feet next week. xoxo

Nice. And she ended it with hugs and kisses, so already I feel better.

Something HOT to knock you off your feet. I give a little laugh. Laken could knock me off my feet in a winter coat and a paper bag over her head. That girl is a dangerous combination of cute and downright sexy.

Have fun. I shoot it over to her.

“Paxton!”

I turn to find Fletcher jogging along the road with beads of sweat tracking down his temples. He pulls up beside me panting like he’s just run a miracle mile, clearly out of shape and breath.

“Suicide mission before breakfast?” I’m only half-teasing. Fletch hasn’t seen the inside of a gym since as long as I can remember.

“Such is life, dude.” He touches his fingers to the ground before huffing and puffing himself to an upright position. “I had this weird dream last night.” He plucks a water bottle from his sweats and proceeds to down it.

I predict instant stomach cramps in his future but don’t say a word. Fletch is better suited as a mathlete than an athlete, that’s for sure.

“Did you dream you passed gas in the forest and you didn’t hear a sound? Sort of makes you question your existence, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, right.” His features harden as if this were serious. “It was intense. It was you and me and we were drinking—knocking back beers, vodka, moonshine—you name it, we tormented our livers with it.”

“Sounds like a typical weekend.” At least it did before things got serious between Laken and me. I’ve taken a turn for the sober since we’ve been together. No more reckless partying for me, all alcohol related tendencies have left the building after that first kiss we shared. Laken inebriates me with her kisses, intoxicates me with those velum-colored eyes.

“There was nothing typical about it.” His features darken. “We went out and swam in this black sea, some kind of lake—and started goofing off. You went under first, and I tried to lug your sorry ass to shore, but got sucked under. Dude, I could feel my clothes taking on weight—I never came back up. Water filled my lungs, and I had this incredible peace.” He glances toward campus. “Then I saw Edinger’s face.” He shakes his head. “So fucking weird. We were dead just like that.”

My heart thumps just once. Fletch startled me with his stupid dream, but I don’t want to show it.

Laken and her strange line of thinking come to mind. She mentioned that Fletch and I drowned in a lake.

“It’s weird like you, dude.” I sock him in the arm like it’s no big deal. “Speaking of weird, Flanders crashed at Melville last night.”

“Why’s that weird?” He loses his attention to a group of girls jogging on the opposite side of the road.

“Just is. He’s never